The Sword of Damocles!

     Do you know the story of Damocles?  In 4th Century BC there was a king named Dionysius ll, and Damocles was part of his court.  It seems that Damocles would go on and on about how good it must be "To be da' king!"  He raved and expounded that the king had every fortune and led a good, rich and problem free life.
     The king...being somewhat sporting for a king...gave Damocles a chance to sit in his throne, and see what it felt like to be the fortunate king.  What Damocles didn't know was that the king had secretly taken a long, sharp sword, and suspended it from the ceiling over the throne by a single hair from a horses tail.  So...in the mighty throne sat Damocles, and above his head a dangling sword...held above by a hair tied round its handle...blade aimed downward.  It wasn't long before Damocles begged to be released from the throne.
     Why this ancient folktale?  A few days ago I happened to be at the mall with my son, both of us heading towards Gamestop (My son's equivalent to Heaven).  Along the way I happen to hear some woman state to another,
     "What is she complaining about, she gots off all summer.  Those teachers got it easy!"
     My instinct was to stop (And I did), and state..."Are you kidding me?"
    I stopped, but said nothing.  Had my son in mind...being at the mall with his old dad was embarrassing enough...I didn't need to make a foolish scene.  So, we both kept moving towards heaven.
     It isn't the first time I have heard someone say something like this.  It isn't the first time I have heard someone speak with such atrocious grammar.  It is the first time that the story of Damocles popped into my head in the aftermath. 
     I created a fantasy...in my fantasy I approached this grammatically incorrect woman, introduced myself and made her an offer.  I explained that she could take my place in the classroom.  She could be relieved of whatever hard, and laborious job she had and become a teacher.  She could enjoy how easy it was, and how stress free.  In my fantasy...she says..."Let's git er done!"
     My daydream continues...she arrives in the classroom before first bell, dressed in her best evangelical-attending polyester pants, and graphic-tee sporting the slogan...Honk if your Horny!
     The kids arrive, go to their lockers and are seated.  Everyone begins the Pledge...she ends it with Amen.  She addresses the class, and before she finishes the kids begin asking questions.  She calls on one, then another...soon the kids are shouting questions, and then begin talking chorally.  She tries to quiet them down, while a few students begin having chatting circles about their night.  One kid shouts "Can I go to the bathroom?"
     Finally she screams...and the kids quiet for the moment.  She begins the first lesson...the chatting begins again.  Quietly, then louder.  She screams again...then the phone rings...attendance hasn't been sent.  She finds out who is absent while the kids seize the opportunity to talk amongst themselves again.
     She makes it through the lesson, and realizes that 5 of the students have been drawing, and another 3 have been passing notes.  She berates them, then hands out the assignment.  By now the kids realize they have control...they talk, they play, they throw paper and pencils across the room at one another.  She screams again!  She decides to take them outside to recess...thinking it will get out there energy.  Two fights break out among the students while outside because she was busy on her cell phone trying to call her husband Hank-Bob.
     After recess she tries to maintain order.  Students get up and go to the bathroom, while others begin the talking tirade again.  The two who had been fighting at recess begin the fight again.
     The fantasy goes on right up to the end of the day.  She tried to keep 30 kids in their seats and attentive for more than five minutes.  She tried to move them through the school in an orderly fashion...in a line instead of a large, hallway-wide group.  She tried to take a break during Special, but spent the whole time setting up the science experiment that was to be done that day.  She did manage to get her assignments done for the day, but realized that when the kids left at 3:35, she had 7 periods of papers to grade, and a PLC meeting to attend directly after school.  By 4:20 she sat at her desk and began grading the assignments, so they could be entered onto ESchool.  By 6:15 she was finished grading, then realized that she still had to plan for tomorrow's school day.  She knew it would be at least another hour before that was complete.
     This whole thing ends with me coming into to my/her classroom and standing before her.  Her once gelled, and highly coiffed hair now wired, and frizzy...her new graphic-Tee stained with dry eraser ink...her eyes glazed, red and weepy.  She then says....
     "I am sorry for what I said...you teachers have to do a hell of a lot more, and deal with a lot more than I ever could have imagined.  It's tough just getting my two kids to sit for longer than five minutes...how do you get 30 to do it all day, every day?  Anyway...please take your job back...I wanna go back to my old job!"
     Well...there you have it.  In my fantasy she realized that doing what we do isn't a walk in the park.  Those of us that do it...we stick with it because we love it!  Not everyone is cut-out to be a teacher.  Knowing stuff; being knowledgeable on the subject matter taught?  This is small -potatoes if you can't control your classroom.  Summer vacations?  For those who don't have second jobs over the summer, or for those who do not teach summer school...this is well deserved compensation for the many, many, many hours spent (After hours, above and beyond contracted hours) doing what we do.
     Like I stated...the woman was real, but her realization was a fantasy.  The Sword of Damocles hung heavily over her head...she realized that our position/vocation comes with great responsibility, and much more stress than she could ever deal with.  Wouldn't it be great though if this could really happen.  Place someone, ignorant of what we do, on our thrones...in front of our kids for a week...NO...for a day!  I truly believe this person would learn the lesson of Damocles!  Our kids would eat them alive!